Angel Airlines, In For A Landing
by dancingloki
Summary: A sequel to Angel Airlines, Ready For Boarding. Dean Winchester, pilot for Angel Airlines, finally gets his hands on the head flight attendant he's been lusting after. Here's the next 36 hours, as requested. Enjoy. AU containing top!Cas and bottom!Dean, with rough sex and rough oral and more than a little domestic fluff.


Dean Winchester had a thousand and one things on his mind, and 999 of them were sexual positions.

He had a day and a half before he had to be back at work, thirty-six hours all alone with his gorgeous head flight attendant, and he fully intended to spend it getting very, very creative. Two months of fantasies and sexual frustration had left him with a laundry list of things he wanted Castiel Novak to do to him—and the determination not to waste a single second, especially since he had no idea if he was ever going to get a repeat performance.

…That was one of the other two things on his mind. It was an unfamiliar feeling for a man used to one-night-stands, in a job that discouraged anything more. He didn't think he'd have any problem keeping Cas interested physically; the guy had made it pretty damn clear he was into Dean. But…what if one night was all he wanted?

He'd managed to avoid thinking about it up until now, since the physical side of his crush had been so overwhelming. But now that he'd had a taste of the physical to sate his hunger, and a 36-hour all-you-can-eat buffet to look forward to, the rest of it was harder to ignore.

He _liked_ Castiel, he couldn't help it. He liked the guy's dry humour, the sarcasm that most people didn't get at first; and the way he didn't understand any of Dean's movie references; and the way the intensity in his face softened when he smiled. He liked him enough to maybe want more than a day and a half. What if Cas didn't feel the same way, didn't want anything past the physical stuff? What if he wasn't interested in more than a one-time deal?

Dean shook his head, snapping back to reality. Plenty of time to think about that later. Preferably _after_ they had made each other come as many times as possible, against every surface of his house (both horizontal and vertical), in every configuration Dean could think of (including a few he was pretty sure violated the laws of physics).

They'd already lost a few minutes making a pit stop for Dean to clean up the (frankly, _very_ embarrassing) mess he'd made a little while earlier—when he came in his trousers like an overeager kid at the Junior Prom just from Castiel _barely_ touching him—so Dean wasn't going to waste any time worrying.

He jogged a few steps to close the gap to the dark, tousled head in front of him, leading the way down the empty hallway to the parking garage. He caught up with Cas at the big double-doors, brushing his fingers lightly over his back with a smile.

_Don't sound like an idiot. Don't sound like an idiot. Don't…_ "Hey, so, how do you want—I mean what would be the best way to, um—how should we—" _Shit_.

Cas was looking at him like he was trying to decide whether to start laughing or make a run for it. "If you're having second thoughts…"

"What?! No! _Hell_ no! I wasn't even talking about that, I—'course not, I didn't mean—" Dean babbled, blushing furiously. "I just— All I meant was, do you want to, um—w-would it be better for you to follow behind me, or do you want to ride with me and leave your car here, or…?" He could feel his face glowing red-hot as his voice trailed off.

It seemed Cas had settled on giving him a sort of amused, good-natured, indulgent half-smile. "Dean, I don't own a car. I take the shuttle to and from work every day. Your vehicle is really the only option."

"O-okay," Dean stammered. "I, uh, I didn't know you didn't have a car."

"I expect there's a great deal you don't know about me," Castiel said gravely. He smirked and pushed through the door to the parking garage, leaving Dean standing starstruck and half-hard and wondering how Cas had managed to make something so simple and innocent sound like a come-on.

Dammit, _Winchester, this ain't your first rodeo! Quit drooling like a middle-schooler, you are charming and successful and a master of seduction. Now _act_ like it, dammit_, he scolded himself, following Castiel into the concrete structure.

"I'm parked right over here," Dean said, getting his confidence back at the prospect of showing off his baby. He kept an eye on Castiel's face as they approached the sleek Chevrolet, grinning to himself when Cas looked suitably impressed.

"So, whaddya think?"

He started to get nervous when Cas took a minute to answer, but his nerves turned out to be unfounded when Cas let out a deep, approving sigh. "She is a thing of beauty, Dean. A true work of art."

Dean beamed. "Thanks. She was my dad's, at first, but he gave her to me when I went off to college. I rebuilt her from the ground up once, too." He shot Cas a cocky grin as they slid into either side of the front seat. "She's a pretty good ride, you'll see."

"The first of many good rides I'll get tonight, I suppose," Cas remarked casually. Dean choked on air, staring at him wide-eyed. Cas stared right back, poker-faced.

After a five-second can't-believe-you-just-fucking-said-that staring match, Dean started the car and they were on their way. The silence stretched out between them long enough to get awkward and long enough for Dean to get uncomfortable.

Dean cleared his throat and reached for the car stereo, stopping his hand a few inches away. "Cas, you mind if I put a little music on?"

"Not at all," he replied, voice mild.

"Awesome." Dean switched a dial, and 'For Whom the Bell Tolls' blared out of the speakers; Dean winced and turned the volume down to a more manageable level. "You, uh, you like Metallica?"

"I'm not sure I've ever heard them before; I usually listen to Classical music." Cas hummed thoughtfully. "It's…interesting."

Dean looked aghast. "Never heard Metallica? What, seriously? _Never_?!" Cas shook his head, bemused, and Dean launched into an animated rant about the glories of 80's thrash metal which was cut off after about five minutes when Cas got bored and ran out of patience and suddenly put his hand onto Dean's knee.

His hands locked, white-knuckling, at ten and two on the steering wheel. Dean stared down the road like it was talking shit about him at a bar. He made a small strangled noise in the back of his throat when Cas slid his hand up along the inside of his thigh.

They sat like that for the rest of the way to Dean's house; Cas tracing light circles on Dean's inseam, and Dean whimpering now and again when Cas stroked his fingers lightly against his cock—now fully erect—where it pressed against the fabric of his uniform trousers. When they finally pulled up outside Dean's little slice of suburbia, he was aching hard.

He barely had time to switch off the engine before Cas was on him again, kissing him shamelessly into the seat back and unzipping his fly. Dean didn't have time to protest—not that he would have—before Cas had him out and exposed, long fingers wrapped around his cock and jerking him off in quick, sharp strokes from base to tip.

Dean was gasping for breath, brain overloaded by the suddenness of Cas's onslaught; he could hear Castiel grunting and panting quietly next to his ear. It took him a moment to recognize that Cas was calling his name. "Dean. _Dean_."

"W-what?" he quavered.

"A little help here?"

And Cas was guiding his hand to the front of those pristine white slacks and _oh yes please_. Dean's brain finally caught up and he followed Cas's urging to unzip his pants and start stroking him in return.

It didn't take long for Dean's vision to white out as he came—again, _embarrassingly_ quickly—into Cas's hand, his whole body going limp. A soft chuckle and a nibble along the shell of his ear made him realize his hand had gone slack along with the rest of his body, and he muttered an incoherent apology as he tightened his grip again.

His head finally starting to clear, Dean pumped his fist along Castiel's dick, varying the pressure as he went, twisting his wrist, and trying to recapture the certainty that _dammit, sex is something I'm _good_ at. Awesome, even_.

He felt more than a little validated when Cas came hard onto his stomach a few strokes later, moaning Dean's name in a low growl into his ear.

After a moment or two and several long, slow breaths, Cas flopped back onto the seat and started tucking himself back into his slacks. Dean watched him, fascinated.

"Cas?"

"Hmm?"

"The _hell_?"

"Just taking the edge off." Cas shrugged, smirking at the dumbfounded look on Dean's face. "You didn't seem to have any objections. Would you like to show me your home, or do you intend to spend the night out here? Because while the backseat of a car like this one does have…potential, I think it might be worth saving for another time. After such a long day, we'd probably be more comfortable in bed." He tipped his head to one side, looking concerned. "Dean, are you feeling well? Your mouth is hanging open."

"You…" Dean cleared his throat, self-conscious, and tried for casual. _Save it for another time, he said. This isn't a one-time deal!_ "Yeah, next time. Sure." He grinned, feeling relief and confidence flood his body. "Maybe I can drive you up to Inspiration Point and we can pretend we're high schoolers who snuck out after curfew to hook up," and he threw Cas his most charming wink.

Castiel grinned right back. "I'm not above a little roleplay," he teased as Dean put himself back together and they headed for his front door. "Do you still have your letterman jacket?"

"How d'you know I played football?" Dean bantered back. "I coulda been in the AV club for all you know."

Cas rolled his eyes. "Of course you played football, and I'll bet that you were the team captain and you were absolutely insufferable."

"I was no such thing," Dean protested, pretending to take offense, "I was a charming sonuvabitch and I still am. I never was on the team, though."

"No? That surprises me," Cas replied, toeing off his shoes and looking around Dean's front hall. "Do you mind if I ask why not?"

"No time," Dean grunted, struggling with a stubborn knot in his shoelace. "I had my hands full takin' care of my snot-nosed baby brother." He tensed a little, awaiting the usual flood of questions as to why that was his job and not his parents', but thankfully Cas accepted the information with nothing more than a slight frown and a quiet "I see."

Dean finally got his shoes off and straightened up to finally look Castiel in the face. The dude was weirdly calm for someone who'd just jacked somebody off in his car in the middle of a crowded suburb, right there in the open where _anyone_ could see.

"So, do I get the grand tour, then?" Cas asked.

"Sure," Dean replied, uncertain. "There's not that much to see, the place is pretty standard, but I can show you around if you want."

"Yes, please," Castiel said decisively. "I want to scout out places around your house I'd like to bend you over and fuck you later, if that's all right with you."

Dean nearly choked on air for the second time that night. When he caught his breath, he sputtered: "Dude, _seriously_?"

Castiel was doing that confused head-tilt again, the one Dean privately thought was adorable. "I didn't think sex outside the bedroom was anything that far out of the ordinary, or particularly 'kinky', as it were," _oh my god he actually did the air quotes with his hands_, Dean thought, delighted, "but I certainly wouldn't want to do anything you're not comfortable with. Although I have to say it surprises me that you're not more adventurous, given your sexual reputation and established fondness for aggressive partners."

"That wasn't what I meant," Dean protested weakly.

"Then…" Castiel frowned. "Dean, if your concern is hygienic, I can assure you I have no intention of leaving you to clean a mess on your own. We can avoid—"

"No, no," Dean cut him off, "that's not, I just—" He huffed a deep sigh. Cas was staring at him, patiently waiting for him to start making sense. "Dammit, are you always so, like, like this?" he stammered out, waving his hand vaguely at Cas, whose puzzled frown deepened.

Dean tried again. "Cas, most people don't—I mean, you're not supposed to just go 'I'm gonna look for places to fuck you later', you're supposed to flirt and, you know, be suggestive and stuff."

"Why?" Cas was still frowning, squinting at him resentfully. "It seems unnecessary. Once the seduction is accomplished, isn't it simpler just to be straightforward with each other about our sexual intentions?"

"Well yeah, but what about foreplay?" Dean chuckled, regaining his footing. "Half the fun's in the anticipation, you know that better'n I do. Don't tell me you didn't have fun teasing me all day, why would you stop now just 'cause you're sure I'm gonna put out?"

"I suppose that makes sense," Castiel answered, dubious.

"Of course it makes sense, dumbass," Dean said, rolling his eyes. "When you both know what's coming but you sort of put it off and hint at it and just kind of look at each other like that, making yourselves wait… It's the best part of sex."

"Really?" Cas's eyebrows went up, and the sharp, calculated look was back on his face. He crossed the entryway in a few long steps and pinned Dean against the door, leaning in with a predatory grin to growl low in his ear. "I would have thought that the part where I had you on your hands and knees screaming my name into a pillow while I fucked you so rough you could feel it for a week, and every time you shifted in your seat you remembered how it felt like having me inside you, would be the best part. But I've been wrong before."

"…So, second-best part, then," Dean murmured weakly. He whined a small protest when Cas pulled away, and grabbed at his tie to pull him back in for a kiss, letting Cas press him roughly back against the solid wood. They separated reluctantly a long moment later, Dean leaning forward to drop a little follow-up peck on Cas's mouth before grabbing his arm to haul him to the next room.

The 'grand tour' of Dean's house went by in a flurry of rooms, Cas pausing occasionally to comment on the architecture or compare the height of a piece of furniture to the height of Dean's hips. He seemed particularly interested in an intricately carved side table that Sam had given Dean when he moved in, and spent what Dean felt was a ridiculous amount of time inspecting it to see if it was, as he put it, 'durable enough'.

They only hit one bump on the tracks. "The backyard is impressive, in such a close neighbourhood," Cas commented, peering through the rear window into the night.

"Yeah, I guess," Dean answered non-committally. "Lotta families around here got kids, so they like nice yards. Kids always want pets, too, so there's that."

"I was a bit surprised you don't keep an animal."

Dean shrugged. "Wouldn't be fair, would it? We work such long hours on such weird schedules. A dog'd go crazy never seeing me, and I'm not exactly a cat guy. …What?"

Cas was giving him a look. "That sounded very much like an excuse."

Dean drew himself up, defensive. "What, I gotta have a dog? What do you care, anyway?"

"No, of course not," Cas said patiently, "but you don't have to justify not wanting one. It's none of my business either way, I was just curious, but you don't need to feel compelled to explain yourself to me."

After a moment spent staring resentfully out the darkened window and pointedly _not_ grinding his teeth, Dean spoke again. "I don't like dogs. They _need_ too much from you. Always gotta take care of 'em, you know? My kid brother, Sammy, he always wanted one. Used to beg and _beg_ me, bring home strays, try to get me to let him keep 'em, but…"

"You had to tell him no?"

"Yep." Dean shrugged again. "We couldn't afford it. I barely kept _us_ fed. No way could we keep some mutt in kibble, _forget_ about vet's bills and all that crap." He sighed, shaking the memory out of his head and mentally thanking Cas for once again not asking why keeping them fed was his job.

"Whatever. He's got three of 'em now, him and his wife Jess, all rescues." He flashed Cas with a proud grin. "He's a big-shot lawyer in Sacramento, works for some activist firm that does defense for the 'underprivileged', pinning racist cops and shit like that."

"You must be very proud," Cas said solemnly.

"Sure am," Dean beamed. "He got the brains in the family. I got the looks, though," and he gave Cas a roguish wink. "What about you? You got any pets?"

"I suppose I'm a 'cat guy', as you say," Cas answered, doing the air quotes around the words again, much to Dean's delight. "I find their independence fascinating in such affectionate creatures, but I've found the same impediments you listed before; it wouldn't be fair to the animal to leave it alone so often, so I refrain."

"Huh." He nudged Cas with his elbow. "Come on, I'll show you the upstairs."

By the time they _finally_ got to the bedroom, Dean's nerves were thrumming hot. He was feeling that familiar buzz he got under his skin when he needed to be _touched_ before he burst. Castiel seemed just as eager; he pressed up against Dean's back, kissing and nuzzling the side of his neck.

"Dean…"

"Mmmm." He hummed, leaning back into Castiel's touch, pulling his strong arms tighter around his waist.

"_Dean_."

"Mmm—yeah?"

"As much as I appreciate the aesthetic quality of that uniform on you, I think it may be time to **_remove it_**."

Dean's cock jumped at the heat in the last two words. "_Hell_ yeah." He grabbed desperately at the buttons on his jacket, fumbling with eager hands trying to get them undone, only to have Castiel's hands tangle with his, preventing him.

"No, no. Not like that."

A shiver ran through Dean at the sound of his low growl. Castiel grabbed his shoulders and spun him around, pulling him in for another long kiss. Dean melted against him, taking the chance to finally dig his fingers into that messy brown hair he'd been eyeing for so long. He moaned out loud, Cas forcing his tongue past Dean's lips, making his hips stutter forward in jerky twitching motions.

Cas chuckled as he pulled back, holding Dean at arm's length when he tried to follow. "Hey, now. Let me get your clothes off, first."

Dean whined, but obeyed. Castiel's hands were gentle, but firm on his body; they brushed across his chest, lingering longer than was strictly necessary. Even through the thick fabric, he could feel the pads of Cas's fingers rubbing circles around his nipples.

Cas sighed, sliding his fingers down Dean's torso to rest on the first set of gold buttons. "Oh, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this to you."

"I might have _some_ idea," Dean murmured. "About as long as I've been wantin' you to do it." That got another chuckle, and Cas's deft fingers flicked the first button free.

"I suppose you're right." He worked the second button loose, and shimmied the jacket down over Dean's shoulders. "These past two months _have_ been…" he craned his neck sideways, admiring the way Dean's chest flexed as the jacket pulled his arms back behind him… "trying, to say the least."

The jacket fell unnoticed to the floor, Dean's arms snaking around Cas's waist to pull him in for another deep kiss. "_Dean_…" Cas mumbled into his open mouth. Dean grunted and tightened his grip. Castiel twisted his head away from Dean's, but his searching mouth just latched onto his jaw instead, sucking wet kisses into the soft, stubbled skin underneath.

"Dean, not that kissing you isn't enjoyable, but—" Cas cut himself off in a low moan when Dean's teeth found a sensitive spot on his neck. "Dean!"

Dean growled. "_Cas_…"

"_Dean_, I want you _naked_." Cas shoved Dean back roughly, the same unreal strength he'd used on the rowdy passenger earlier in that day now controlling Dean's every move. Dean swallowed, his cock swelling and hardening. Cas grinned, predatory.

"You like that, I know. Don't worry, Dean. I'm going to take _good_ care of you." Dean felt a shiver of anticipation run through his body at the dark look in Castiel's eyes. Long, tapered fingers traced light patterns up and down his chest, then suddenly grabbed a solid hold on his dark tie.

Castiel pulled him down roughly, and Dean went with it eagerly, dropping to his knees on the carpet. He looked up through thick lashes, meeting Cas's approving gaze. Cas let the cotton strip run through his fingers to its tip, then wrapped it deliberately twice around his palm. He tugged gently, pulling Dean's chin up and tipping his head back.

Dean closed his eyes, parting his lips at the feeling of a thumb running across his mouth. Castiel hummed appreciatively. "Would you like me inside you, Dean? You want to taste me?"

"_Yes_," Dean breathed out, before wrapping his lips around Cas's thumb and teasing its tip with his tongue. Cas chuckled.

"Eager. I like it." He unzipped his fly with his free hand, pulling his own erection free of the white fabric. "Open your mouth wide." Dean complied instantly, his dream from the night before jumping to the forefront of his mind as Cas guided his mouth to the tip of his cock.

He wasn't disappointed. Once he was lined up, Cas pulled him quickly forward, sliding smoothly past his lips. Dean gagged a little when the end of Cas's dick hit the back of his throat, but grabbed at his thighs to stop him from pulling back out; he let himself settle for a moment, swallowing a few times.

_Been too long since I've done this_, Dean thought as he took Castiel down the rest of the way, the soft hair of his groin tickling his nose. He didn't spend too long adjusting, though; he'd always liked it rough, and he knew Cas could deliver.

A gentle hand cupped the side of his cheek. "Dean, are you all right?" Cas asked. He nodded as well as he could without dislodging Castiel's cock from his throat.

"I don't want to hurt you, are you certain it's—" Dean rolled his eyes and sucked down hard, scraping his teeth with just the _barest_ pressure over the base, and was rewarded by a surprised grunt and a hand latching, vise-like, onto the back of his head.

"Then I won't hold back," and another thrill ran down Dean's spine at the threat and promise in his voice. Cas pulled out most of the way and then snapped his hips back forward, fucking into Dean's mouth in sharp, quick motions.

Dean shut his eyes and let sensation wash over him. Cas was thick in his throat, and the feeling was _just_ on the right side of painful. He kept his throat as slack and relaxed as he could, his muscles burning where they stretched.

Sharp pain shot through his scalp as Cas jerked him backwards. Dean sputtered at the sudden emptiness in his throat, but Cas didn't give him time to protest. He pushed Dean roughly backwards; Dean tried to keep up, scrabbling back on his heels, but there wasn't any need. Cas threw him effortlessly against the bedroom wall, cupping his jaw with one hand then thrusting a thumb into his mouth, forcing it open.

Cas lined up and shoved his hips forward, mercilessly driving deep into his throat. Dean choked, gagging, then moaned in pleasure as Cas set a punishing rhythm. Each time Cas pulled out, drops of precome spread across Dean's tongue. He'd never really liked the taste of come, but Cas tasted almost _good_, kinda sweet somehow.

He didn't have long to savour the taste, though. Before long, Cas had fucked all coherent thought right out of his mind, leaving him strung-out and on-edge, able to feel nothing but his throat swelling as Cas's thick cock filled him over and over again.

Eventually he felt Cas's rhythm start to falter, his thrusts growing erratic until he was coming down Dean's throat in spurts with a grunt. Dean grabbed his ass with both hands when he tried to pull out, looking up through long lashes as he slid slowly off Cas's dick. When he finally reached the last few inches, he curled his tongue around it.

Castiel moaned, fingers knotting in Dean's hair as he slowly licked Cas clean, teasing the tip with his tongue and swallowing down the last few bursts of come. He grinned as he pulled off, licking a few stray drops from his chin.

With a growl, Cas hauled him up and pressed him against the wall, kissing him roughly and grinding his thigh against Dean's erection. He licked the last traces of his come out of Dean's mouth and sighed, nuzzling his nose into the space under Dean's ear.

"You really are magnificent," he murmured, smiling against Dean's neck. "Better than I could have imagined. You feel so good, Dean, taking me in like that, so _eager_ for it." He pressed a kiss into the corner of his jaw, then whispered right into his ear, "I'll bet the inside of your ass is even better, and I can't _wait_ to find out firsthand."

Dean shuddered and blushed. Cas made short work of his tie and dress shirt, and his trousers followed them onto the floor. In a few brief moments he was bare naked and kneeling bent over his bed, a shiver of anticipation running down his spine at the sound of Cas behind him stripping his own clothes off.

A soft touch on his thighs drew a soft groan. Gentle hands traced up and down his legs, ghosting over his ass, and Dean's patience—never much to begin with—ran out. "Dammit, Cas," he growled, his voice hoarse, "come on, man, I need more!"

"Eager," he heard Cas mutter behind him, and strong hands were spreading his ass wide. He waited just long enough that Dean was about to start bitching again when he felt something slick press against his hole and gasped in surprise.

Cas traced slow circles around Dean's hole until he was trembling and incoherent before finally slipping inside. He hummed in contentment as he rolled his tongue in rings, gently stretching Dean open, then darting it in and out in shallow thrusts. Dean keened, clenching the sheets in tight fists.

A wet finger slipped through past Castiel's tongue, probing deep inside Dean's ass. It twisted and searched, questing, finally finding his prostate, and he lost it. His sharp cry was muffled by the blanket as his orgasm was punched out of him. Cas wrapped a strong arm around his waist and supported his weight, whispering soothing comforts into the back of his neck.

Dean slumped back into Cas's lap, loose and relaxed. "That was awesome," he rasped.

Cas chuckled. "Is your throat sore?"

Dean just glared at him over his shoulder, then snuggled back against him. Cas's broad chest was firm and comfortable, and Dean was feelin' pretty good about the world in general. He wiggled his hips, grinning when Cas groaned and nipped at his neck in retaliation.

"C'mon, Cas," he sighed, leaning back for another kiss as he rocked his hips down. "Want you to fuck me."

Cas growled and yanked on his hips. "Dean, I may need a few minutes, and the floor's not very comfortable. Can we move this to the bed, please?"

Dean grumbled, but cooperated as Cas manhandled him up and onto the bed. He rolled over on his side to face Cas as he climbed in after him, reaching out and wrapping his arms around his waist. He tugged until Cas scooted up close to him, pulling him tight against his chest and tucking his head into the corner of Dean's neck.

The low rumble of Castiel's chuckle vibrated through Dean's torso. "Very cuddly, aren't you? I thought you wanted to go another round."

"Shut up," Dean muttered into his hair. "You said you needed a minute anyway. And you're warm."

Cas just snickered and snuggled closer.

...

Dean woke up to a dark room with a fuzzy head and an odd taste in his mouth. He'd had some kind of weird friggin' dream last night…he vaguely remembered it being really, _really_ hot, but that was about it. He rolled over to check his alarm clock, hazily hoping he'd have enough time to go back to sleep before he had to get up for work, only to bump into something. Something…solid, something that growled and swatted at him when he prodded it tentatively.

He shrugged. Whatever it was, it was warm and comfy, and his alarm clock would probably wake him up in time for work. He tangled his arms and legs around the something and fell back asleep.

...

A gentle pressure on his crotch and a firm grip on his ass woke him for the second time, this time with a clear head. He grinned down into the dark head nuzzled into his chest. "Mornin'."

There was no answer, but the hand on his ass kept kneading.

Dean nudged the silent figure against his chest. "Hey, Cas. G'mornin'."

This resulted in a low-pitched growl, and an sharp yank forward on his butt.

Dean giggled. _No, no, men don't giggle. I _chuckled_. Yep_.

"Feelin' frisky, huh? Well, I got a little morning wood to work off, c'mere." He tugged the blanket down past Cas's shoulders and tried to dislodge his head for a kiss, but Cas just snarled and burrowed deeper into his chest. The hand on his ass got more aggressive. Covering more area, too; they'd gone to bed bare, and Cas' fingers were working their way into the cleft towards his hole.

"Cas, c'mon," he muttered, wiggling his hips forward away from the questing fingers. Cas grumbled and ground his crotch up into Dean's, pulling his hips forward again and surprising another laugh. "Hey!"

Dean felt a wet mouth against his neck as Cas's hips kept moving in slow circles. The hand now cupping his ass moved further down, gripping the back of his thigh vise-tight and tugging it up over Cas's legs, slotting them between Dean's. The twitching of his hips grew less circular and more pronounced, fucking up against his ass in short, hard movements. Dean groaned, clamping down on Cas's shoulder with one hand as he felt his cock—already half-erect from Cas's hand—harden.

"Oh god, Cas—" he grunted, his free hand finding its way to Cas's hair and yanking. Cas rumbled indistinctly and pulled back, rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Hmm…Dean? Oh…good morning," he mumbled, voice thick, and rolled away from him.

Dean whined in frustration. "Cas—why'd you stop?" he choked out.

Cas blinked at him in confusion. "Stop what?"

"Stop—" Dean gaped, his mouth hanging open. "Son of a bitch. You…" He flopped onto his back, running a broad hand over his face. Cas narrowed his eyes.

"Dean, _what_ are you talking about?"

Dean snorted in amusement. He couldn't help himself; the whole thing was just too damn funny. "Dude, you were _sleep-humping_ me."

Cas squinted even more, glaring at him. "I was not."

Dean sniggered. "Yes you fuckin' were, and now you got me all hot and ready—" he pulled Cas over to face him again and wriggled up against his body— "and you're not even gonna finish what you started?"

Cas rolled his eyes. "I assure you, Dean, that I was doing no such thing, but if you're in the mood, I'm more than happy to oblige you." He wrapped a hand around Dean's neck and pulled him in for a filthy open-mouth kiss. Dean moaned and wrapped his legs around Cas's waist, digging his heels into his back and grinding down against him.

In one smooth movement, Cas flipped them, turning Dean onto his back. He rolled his body slowly against Dean's, rubbing their cocks against each other. Dean gasped out loud at the friction of skin on skin, pressing his head back onto the pillow as Cas bit at his neck. Cas's hand found its way back to Dean's ass, spreading his cheeks apart and probing gingerly at his hole with a forefinger.

Dean hissed as a dry finger breached his ass to the first knuckle. "Cas, lube."

"Where?" Cas growled, eyes dark.

"B-bedside table," Dean panted, eyes rolling back in his head. "In the drawer."

"Condoms?"

"Same place."

He barely had time to miss the heat and weight of Cas's body on him before Cas was back, flipping open the cap to a bottle of lube with one hand and pushing Dean's legs wide open with the other. "Oh, Dean…" he said, lust deepening his voice. "You look so beautiful like this, you know that? I've been itching to get my cock in you since the day we met."

Dean moaned low, grabbing feebly at Cas's shoulders. Castiel smiled, and stretched up to lean over him, kissing him down into the pillow. When they finally came up for air, his gentle smile turned to a predatory smirk, and Dean felt a thrill run through his body. Cas kissed underneath his jaw, then trailed with his lips and tongue down Dean's neck to his chest and down to his stomach.

He moaned as Cas nibbled his hipbone, nipping with his teeth into the tender skin. Slick fingers crept into his the cleft of his ass, reaching his hole and slipping inside, slowly stretching him open. Dean arched his back, pressing his cock up against Cas's chest, but Cas merely chuckled and shoved his hips back down flat against the bed.

"Patience is a virtue, Dean." He cut off Dean's angry retort (_which would have been _awesome_, by the way_) by covering his mouth with his own, tangling their tongues together as he worked Dean open.

By the time Cas determined Dean to be sufficiently prepped—a task he was very thorough with, much more than Dean thought he needed—Dean was a writhing mess. Cas was just as forceful and domineering as he'd dreamed, slapping his hands away every time he tried to touch himself and shoving him down roughly on the bed when he rocked up in a futile effort to get even the smallest amount of friction on his cock.

Cas was wider than Dean was expecting, almost wide enough to make him regret being so impatient. He kept his eyes fixed on Dean's, cradling the back of his head with one hand, as he slid slowly into him.

Dean wasn't sure when Cas had put the condom on—one-handed, too, probably—but he spared a brief thought to be grateful that at least one of them had enough control over himself to think about protection. Dean was horny enough that he wouldn't have remembered to care if Cas had gone in bareback. He was _pretty_ sure he didn't have anything catching, like maybe 95% sure, but honestly, he'd had so many one-night-stands in his life who friggin' knew.

Even through the thin layer of latex, the heat of Cas's cock was almost more than Dean could handle. He lay back on the bed, his mouth hanging slack, and shut his eyes, gripping Cas's shoulders as Cas fucked him gently.

A soft breath tickled his ear, and Cas pressed a soft kiss onto his cheek. Dean sighed in contentment as Cas's cock slipped luxuriously in and out, brushing against his prostate on each slow thrust.

Cas was talking again, his voice rumbling low into Dean's ear. "Let go, Dean. I can feel you holding back. Let go."

"C-can't," Dean moaned, breathless. "I don't—I don't want it to stop."

"Don't want what to stop, Dean?" Cas murmured, lipping at Dean's earlobe.

"This," he choked out, "this feeling, feels so _good_, Cas, please…"

Cas chuckled. "I know, Dean. I know. It feels good for me, too. And you do look _so_ beautiful like this. But we've got the rest of the day to play, and maybe even years after that." He kissed Dean again, soft and sweet, and wrapped one broad, calloused hand around his cock.

"Come for me," he whispered, his lips brushing Dean's as he spoke, and Dean came, striping Cas's belly and chest with bursts of come. Cas groaned, burying his head in Dean's neck, and in a few short, hard thrusts Cas came too, buried inside him.

Heaving a deep sigh, Cas rolled off Dean onto the bed next to him, throwing an arm over his chest. "That was…_very_ enjoyable," he said with a calm smile. Dean snorted.

"Understatement, man." Cas chuckled, and Dean smirked at him. "So now what?"

"Well—" Cas's stomach interrupted him. Dean sniggered; Cas rolled his eyes. "Well, it seems I'm hungry. Breakfast, perhaps?"

"Awesome." Dean rolled sideways off the bed, landing on the carpet with a _whumph_, and shot to his feet, grinning. He held out a hand to Cas and hauled him to his feet, pulling him in for a long kiss, which lasted until Cas's stomach growled again and they both broke into laughter.

Dean led the way downstairs, rambling happily about his cooking prowess and tugging Cas by the hand after him. Cas had an amused, indulgent smile on his face, and let himself be towed down the stairs without protest.

In the kitchen, Dean dove right to work. His cooking was something he'd always been proud of; years of putting meals on the table for Sammy (_who was by no means a fussy eater, thank God, despite his weird obsession with rabbit food_) had given him plenty of time to experiment and hone his skill. Cas seemed content to sit at the table and watch Dean move around, completely at ease in his natural habitat, just as he was at work.

"So, what are we having, then?" he asked as Dean rummaged in the cupboard for his skillet.

"Good old fashioned American classic," Dean grinned over his shoulder. "Eggs and bacon and plenty of 'em. I can make pancakes too if you want."

"…Bacon?" Cas asked after a moment.

"Yep!" Dean said cheerfully. "I figure we can eat about a pound between us, whaddya think?"

"Dean, I'm vegetarian," Cas said flatly. Dean whirled around to stare at him in shock, his mouth hanging wide open, a spatula in one hand and a pack of bacon in the other.

"You're _what?_" he finally squeaked out.

"Vegetarian," Cas repeated, his face serious. "I don't eat meat."

Dean was momentarily struck speechless. After a moment, he sputtered, "**_Why?_**"

"I believe animals have as much right to live as humans do, and slaughtering them for food is wrong," Cas answered solemnly, frowning.

Dean gaped at him, then did a helpless little pirouette on the spot as if an explanation would pop out of the cupboard and rescue him. "But—but—but—_bacon_, Cas!"

Cas's brow furrowed. "Meat is murder, Dean. I don't know if I can be with someone who doesn't understand that."

_You gotta be fuckin' _kiddin_ me_. Dean thought he might cry.

After a tense, speechless moment, the corner of Cas's mouth twitched, and he dissolved into (_frankly, obnoxious_) laughter.

Dean set his jaw. "That's not fuckin' funny, Cas," he growled, shooting him a dirty look before turning around to slam the bacon down into the griddle.

"Yes it is," Cas gasped out, still laughing. Dean ground his teeth. _Asshole_.

Dean's resolution to be pissed at Cas for at _least_ a week was broken after just a few minutes of sulking, when Cas came up and wrapped his arms around Dean's waist, still chuckling softly, and nuzzled the back of his neck.

"I was just teasing you, Dean. I'm sorry." Dean _humph_'d, but the tension melted out of his shoulders. Cas kissed his shoulder blade tenderly.

"You're not really vegetarian, are you?" he asked uncertainly after a moment.

"Would it really be a problem if I was?" Cas asked, his voice neutral.

"Well, no, 'course not," Dean answered, poking resentfully at the bacon with his spatula. "I just—all of the stuff I know how to cook has meat in it, and if you were one of those people who got all weird about _me_ liking meat that would suck a lot, and—I dunno, it just caught me off-guard. Sorry."

"You don't need to apologize." Cas kissed him again, at the base of his neck. "It would be very unreasonable of me to spring a demand like that on you so suddenly and be so dogmatic and uncompromising about it. And I'm sure you would be very accommodating of my needs, if I did follow such a lifestyle."

" 'Course I would," Dean said cheerily, his good mood returning as he aggressively did _not_ wonder what 'dogmatic' meant. "…But you're not, right?"

"No, Dean, I'm not really vegetarian," Cas chuckled. "I have a great passion for red meat, actually. I was hoping we could have hamburgers tonight, if that's all right with you. They're my favourite."

"Burgers, huh?" Dean grinned. "Hell yeah. I make a mean burger."

"I expect you do," Cas murmured, gently biting Dean's shoulder then kissing the red marks of his teeth before they disappeared. "But for now—" he reached around Dean to pull him away from the stove— "you should probably put on an apron or something. Cooking bacon naked, while _very_ arousing, isn't the safest activity."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, right. S'only dangerous 'cause you can't keep your hands off me," and he wiggled his ass backwards against Cas's crotch with a smirk.

He did, however, consent to wearing the (_very manly, so shut up, thank you very much_) "Kiss the Cook" apron Cas somehow found in one of the kitchen drawers. _Knew that thing'd come back to haunt me_, he mentally grumbled, remembering the asshole smirk on Sammy's face when Dean opened it that one Christmas. _Shoulda just thrown the damn thing out_.

Cas's fingertips lingering over Dean's ass after he tied the string made the whole thing worth it, though, as did the lustful way he watched Dean move around, and breakfast passed in a blur. Cas wrapping his lips around a strip of bacon and sucking on it for a moment before biting off a piece. Cas licking maple syrup from his fingers. Cas and his fuckin' orange juice, _deliberately_ letting a little bit dribble out of the side of his mouth and then licking it up. Cas pretending like he had no idea about the effect he was having on Dean, the _asshole_.

When they finished eating, Dean hastily threw the dishes into the sink. He grinned as Cas untied the laces of his apron, pulling it over his head and dropping it on the floor. "Gettin' handsy, huh?" he teased as Cas ran his palms over Dean's chest and abs.

"You love it," Cas shot back, twisting Dean around and shoving him up against the counter. He yanked sharply at Dean's hair, kissing him with a ferocity that took Dean by surprise. He gripped the counter with both hands, holding himself up as his knees turned to jelly. Cas bit his lower lip, hard enough that Dean was sure he tasted blood. He moaned as Cas ground his hips forward, rubbing their cocks together.

Cas pulled away, leaving Dean gasping for air. "What do you say we go into your living room and ignore a movie?" he suggested with a filthy smirk, and Dean's cock twitched.

In the living room, Cas threw him down roughly on the couch, giving him a fine view of his ass when he bent over to look through Dean's DVD collection. Dean stroked himself lazily as he watched Cas pop the disc into the player and saunter back towards him. He tried to crane his neck to see what movie Cas picked, but all thought of the film was driven out of his head when Cas knocked his hand away from his cock and swallowed him down in one smooth motion.

Dean groaned, digging his fingers into dark hair. Cas brought him to the edge and then backed off, over and over and over again, bringing him to the very brink of coming then pulling him back, even blowing on his wet cock. Dean hissed at the sudden coolness and squirmed, trying to dislodge Cas's hand where it was clamped around the base of his dick. Cas held him still with one strong hand, smirking at Dean's frustrated attempts to shake him loose.

Cas might have toyed with him for hours if Bon Jovi hadn't suddenly blared out into the room. Dean swore and pushed him back. "Shit. Where's my phone? Dammit, Sammy…"

"Just ignore it," Cas growled, but Dean shook his head.

"Can't," he grunted, "Wanted Dead or Alive's my brother's ringtone. He never calls during the week, somethin' must be wrong…hah!" He finally found the cell where he'd discarded it, distracted, the night before, and flopped back on the couch, switching off the movie as he answered the call.

"Hey, Sammy! What's—_uh_," the end of his sentence being swallowed by a grunt. Cas, the son of a _bitch_, had decided that blowing Dean while he was on the _fuckin'_ phone with his fuckin' _kid brother_ was a great fuckin' idea. Dean tried to shove Cas off with his free hand, but Cas just grinned around him and pinned his arm down.

"Dean, you okay?" came a worried voice on the other line. Dean tried to get his voice under control.

"Y-yeah, Sammy, I'm great. What's up?" He yanked his hand lose and swatted at Cas's head, but Cas just sucked down hard. Dean's eyes rolled back in his head and used every ounce of self-control he had to not moan aloud.

"I told you it's _Sam_," and Dean could hear the bitchface over the line. "Anyway, Dean, I got some great news!"

"Well, don't—_dammit, Cas_—don't leave me in suspense, baby brother," Dean managed. "Wait, let me guess. Jess finally de-virginized you?"

"Ha ha, Dean, very funny." _Oh, yeah, that's a bitchface voice all right_. "God, you're so _childish_."

"Aah, screw you, Sammy, I'm hilarious." He pressed the phone against his chest just in time for Sam not to hear the sharp intake of breath that Cas drew from him. "Come on, tell me your big news."

"I made partner!" Sam practically squealed. _Kid never could keep hold of a secret for long_.

"Shit, Sam, you serious? That's awesome!" Dean grinned. "When you gonna come down to visit me so we can celebrate?"

"The far side of _never_, Dean, after the last 'celebration' you threw me." Sam was doing his best to sound pissed, but Dean knew his brother too well. "You don't usually hire _strippers_ to celebrate graduating from law school."

"Well, Jess thought it was awesome," Dean croaked, trying to focus on the conversation—which Cas was making increasingly difficult. "Heh, remember how she got that lap dance?"

"That was kinda hot—_ow!_ She just _smacked_ me, Dean," he said accusingly.

"And this is my fault how?"

"Because it was your stupid party and your stupid idea."

"And your awesome girlfriend who went along with it," and Dean was literally shaking from the effort of keeping his voice steady with the things Cas was doing to his dick.

"Yeah," Sam sighed. Dean thought privately that if Sam sounded any more smug he was gettin' Nair in his shampoo again.

"So you're—_ah!_—you're all good, then?" Dean asked, anxious to get rid of the kid and get back to business with Cas.

A little too anxious, maybe. "Yeah, everything's fine," Sam said slowly, his voice laden with suspicion. "Dean, what was that noise?"

"N-noise? What noise?" Dean stammered. Cas, damn him, had apparently gotten bored with waiting and decided that Dean's conversation had gone on long enough. He'd doubled his efforts on Dean's cock, trying to divert his attention. Dean bit back a groan.

"I heard a—you made some kind of weird _grunting_ sound, what are you doing?"

"I'm n-not doing anything, just—just lyin' around, watchin' a movie." Dean winced. _Very convincing_.

Sam's tone had graduated from suspicious to accusatory. "If you're just lying around watching a movie, then why does your voice sound so—**_oh my god!_**" Dean had clapped a hand over his mouth a moment too late; a moan escaped him before he could cut it off, the result of Cas doing something _very_ creative with his tongue. "Dean, what the **_hell?_** You _asshole_, you've got a girl there, don't you!?"

He tried to play it off, he really did, but the cat was pretty thoroughly out of the bag, and Sam had built up enough momentum that Dean's feeble attempts had about a snowball's chance in Hell of stopping his bitching. "I can't _believe_ you, Dean, you're such a pig. You couldn't even keep your dick under control for five friggin' minutes to take my phone call? _Really?_ Un-_freakin_'-believable."

"It's not like that," Dean protested weakly, but Sam steamrollered over him.

"Look, man, whatever. Have fun with your, your new _girlfriend_ or whatever, I'll be over here in the land of _adults_ where we don't talk on the phone with our brothers _while having sex_."

"Sam—" was all Dean got out before a strong hand plucked the phone away from him. Cas pulled off his dick with a wet _pop_, and looked straight into Dean's eyes as he brought the phone up to his ear.

"My apologies," he growled. Was it Dean's imagination, or was Cas's voice even lower and more gravelly than normal? Either way, his cock gave a hopeful twitch at the sound. "I assure you, your brother was not at fault. He had every intention of halting our activities when you called, but I'm afraid I'm not a patient man, and have been doing my level best to—shall we say, _encourage_ him to keep your conversation brief."

Dean couldn't hear Sam's response, but he was willing to bet it was _priceless_. Your baby brother being aware, as an abstract concept, that you were into dudes and your baby brother having a conversation with a dude that he knew for a fact had been sucking your cock a minute ago were two pretty different things. _And one was a lot more hilarious_.

"There's no need for embarrassment, Sam," Cas was now saying gravely. "Your assumption was perfectly valid, especially given your brother's reputation." Dean interrupted with a weak _Hey!_, but Cas just glared at him and slapped the tender skin of his inner thigh.

Cas continued, "Of course. Of course, Sam. Certainly. Yes, very much so." Dean scowled, trying to figure out what the hell Cas could be agreeing to. "I'd like that very much, yes. At the holidays, perhaps." Cas chuckled. "Yes, you're right about that. He certainly is." He shot Dean a smirk, and Dean felt his ears redden. "In fact I should probably get back to him before he starts to sulk."

Dean's scowl deepened—he's a grown man, he doesn't sulk—and was about to make his objections known, but Cas was already saying his (weirdly formal) farewells. He hung up the phone with a decisive jab of his thumb, and tossed Dean's phone across the room. "Well. That was…_irritating_."

"I coulda got rid of him faster if you hadn't freakin' stealth attacked my dick!" Dean growled, shoving at Cas's shoulders. Cas let himself be pushed back, but retaliated in one lightning-fast motion, shoving Dean down onto the couch and pinning him against the cushions.

Dean swallowed hard, Cas's icy stare mere inches away. He leaned in close to nibble at Dean's neck. "You know, Dean, I think you've got a bad attitude." A soft kiss under his jaw turned fierce, and Dean felt teeth against his neck, bruising and marking him. Cas rumbled low into his ear. "I think I'd like to fuck it out of you."

Dean's eyes went wide. Before he could blink, Cas flipped him onto his front, pressing his face into the couch. He shuddered at the feeling of gentle bites on the small of his back, working their way down to his ass. Dry fingers traced his hole with a light touch. Cas sighed. "Damn."

"_What?_" Dean grunted, pressing his ass back against Cas's hand, eager for contact.

"I left the lubricant and condoms upstairs," Cas huffed, annoyed. Dean groaned.

"Well go and fuckin' _get em_," he snarled, glaring at Cas over his shoulder. _This_ was what he'd been waiting for, waiting for months, for the strength and feral _want_ he'd been craving from Cas. He'd had a taste of it last night (literally), of that savage power that both terrified and tantalized him, and he was sure as shit ready for more.

Without warning Cas hauled up on his hips, tipping him forward so he faceplanted against the couch cushion. He snickered (_like an _**asshole**, Dean thought furiously) as Dean kicked at him, landing a glancing blow on his torso before struggling up onto his side, turning the full force of his infuriated glare on Cas.

Dean's face was flushed red, but even as he opened his mouth to rip Cas a new one, something stopped him. Behind the stupid smirk Cas was wearing, there was a spark in his eyes, that sly humour so few people appreciated. He couldn't help it; he tried to stay pissed, but within a few minutes his lips were twitching and trembling and Cas was laughing at him.

He rolled back onto his front and curled up, pushing his ass into the air and growled wordlessly. "Just go get the fuckin' lube," he grumbled, kicking Cas again—on the thigh this time, but not hard enough to hurt.

Cas hummed in approval as he straightened up, and gave his ass a stinging pat that was almost a slap before heading towards the stairs. _Bastard's takin' his time_, Dean thought resentfully, and yelled "_hurry!_" after him.

He wiggled in place, tucking his knees up under him to push his ass further up, and folded his arms, resting his forehead on them. Waiting sucked, but like hell was he takin' Cas dry—especially if Cas was gonna follow through on his promise to fuck Dean so hard he felt it for a week. A wave of lust ran through him at the thought.

He passed the time until Cas's return (_about twice as long as it should have been, son of a bitch makin' me wait for him_ he groused mentally) by running through some of his favourite fantasies in his head. He was lingering on a scenario that involved Cas throwing him down on the hood of the Impala and going to town when his ears pricked up at the sound of gentle padding footsteps.

Dean stayed quiet, though, with his head buried on his arms, pretending he hadn't realized Cas was there. He was rewarded with the brush of fingertips from his shoulder to his hips, before a strong hand gripped his ass. "Very nice, Dean," he said approvingly. Dean felt the couch cushions dip as Cas climbed up behind him.

The _snap_ of the lube bottle echoed in the quiet room, and Dean trembled in anticipation. He was already pretty damn loose from that morning, and Cas had him open in a matter of moments, fucking himself wantonly back onto Cas's fingers.

Cas laughed, and Dean swore at him until Cas shut him up with a swift thrust into his ass. Cas's hand found his head again, and held his head down on the couch as he fucked him hard and rough. Dean moaned, trying to rock back to meet Cas's cock, but Cas just pinned him, his free hand clamping down on Dean's hip. He was helpless, held completely motionless, as Cas slammed into him faster and faster until Dean was practically whimpering and a sheen of sweat covered both their bodies.

The heat built up in his gut, and his cock was _aching_, but every time he tried to work an arm loose to jerk himself off Cas stopped him, tightening his grip tight enough to bruise.

Dean was screaming now, thrashing under Cas's hands as Cas angled down to nail his prostate with each snap of his hips. It didn't take long for Cas to push him past the edge and he came, hard, his come striping the tops of his thighs.

Cas didn't stop, though. Dean went limp and boneless in the aftershocks of his orgasm, panting open-mouthed and mewling shamelessly every time Cas drove into him. Through the haze of arousal and sensation, he was dimly aware of Cas's rhythm faltering, each punch into his hole coming at a different interval than the one before it, then faster and faster and faster until finally Cas buried himself in Dean and threw himself forward over Dean's back, grunting, his whole body shaking as he filled the condom.

Dean was sure he'd be content to lie there forever, with Cas's weight on his back and his arms around his sides. He could feel Cas's chest expanding and deflating as he breathed, each breath cool on his skin as it dried the sweat on his neck and shoulders.

After a while, when Cas's breathing calmed down and his heartbeat no longer pounded against Dean's back, he straightened up and pulled his softened cock out of Dean's ass. He tugged Dean gently onto his side, prodding him until he straightened out his legs and stretched out along the couch so Cas could snuggle up behind him.

Dean winced as he moved. The fuzzy happy feeling he got after coming had worn off, and now that the endorphins and adrenaline had worn out of his system, his ass was killing him. Every movement sent spikes of pain shooting from his ass along his legs and torso, so he tried to stay as still as possible while they cuddled, to minimize the ache.

Not that he regretted it, though, not for a second. Work tomorrow was going to be interesting, that was for sure. If he'd thought it was bad before, trying to hide his boners when Cas was messin' with him, well…feeling the phantom of Cas's cock still inside him every time he so much as shifted in his seat was going to drive him wild.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't even realize at first that Cas was talking to him, and completely missed what he was saying. Cas chuckled and repeated himself. "I was asking how you felt. I was a little rough with you, I wanted to make sure I didn't go too far."

Dean rolled his eyes, wriggling around to face him. "Cas, man, you serious? C'mon. Gimme a little credit here, I ain't some delicate flower you gotta be careful not to break." He glared at Cas, daring him to argue the point.

Cas winced, apologetic, and shrugged. Dean grinned and kissed the tip of his nose. "You're freakin' adorable, you know that?"

That made Cas scowl at him, and Dean started laughing until Cas shoved him off the couch and rolled after him, landing on top of him with a _thud_ and immediately finding his mouth. He kissed Dean down into the carpet, shoving his tongue past unresisting lips and yanking at his hair with one strong hand.

Dean went limp, relaxing into Cas's grip, and wrapped his arms around his waist. Cas hummed in contentment and nipped gently at his lips before deepening the kiss again. Dean licked into Cas's mouth and sucked Cas's tongue roughly into his own.

When Cas finally pulled back, he left them both smiling and sated, staring at each other with matching dopey grins. Dean knew he looked like an idiot, but somehow he didn't really give a rat's ass. He'd thought his life was damn near perfect before, but this—he didn't even realize he'd been missin' this. Ever since his thing with Cassie had gone belly up in the worst way…well, she'd been the first person outside of family he ever loved, and he was startin' to think she might be the last, too. Which was too damn cynical for a freakin' thirty-six year old man to be.

And holy shit, he just said the word "love." About Cas. Only in his head, yeah, but still, holy freakin' shit. He was in love with Cas.

…Fuck.

_Okay, you know what? Fuck it_. Dean suddenly decided. _I can freak out about _that_ later. Right now, I deserve this. I _deserve_ to be happy, and I _deserve_ mind-blowing sex, so, fuck it. Looks like Cas ain't goin' anywhere, so I'll figure it out later_.

He surged up and kissed Cas with a ferocity that took him by surprise. Not for long, though; a second later he was returning Dean's kiss with the same fire, pressing him back to the floor and leaving them both breathless.

Dean grinned, and wiggled his hips. Cas was gettin' hard again, he could feel it. "Ready to go again?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Castiel's answering smile sent a thrill through him. "I am if you are."

_Stupid question_. Dean was born ready.

He turned off his brain for the time being to avoid accidentally thinking about the L-word. The morning and afternoon passed, _way_ too quickly, in a haze of orgasm followed by cuddling followed by mind-blowing orgasm, over and over again.

He knew it sounded like some kinda dumbass romance novel, but Cas was hitting every button Dean had and playing into every kink and every fantasy, without even having to ask. It was like Cas somehow magically knew exactly what turned him on, like they were connected somehow. Or maybe they were just that compatible physically, that the things Cas wanted just happened to be the exact same things Dean wanted.

Either way, he made up his mind to live by that saying about mouths and gift horses, and added it to the list of things he was gonna figure out later. He was burnin' through his bucket list pretty damn quick, and enjoying every second of it.

They had paused for hastily assembled sandwiches in the middle of the day (Cas had gotten impatient and fucked him on the kitchen table halfway through making them), but around five o'clock they were completely exhausted, and were forced to admit they needed real food before one of them passed out.

Dean was shaping the burger patties. They were going to be fucking spectacular—he'd diced up some onions to mix in with the meat, and seasoned the burgers according to his secret recipe. Not that he was trying to impress Cas or anything, he just, y'know, took pride in his work, or whatever.

Speaking of Cas…he was glowering on the other side of the table, ravishing Dean with his eyes. Dean had banished him from the counter, saying that if he couldn't keep his damn hands to himself he could stay the hell out of reach of temptation, and he was sulking.

Dean didn't let his resolve weaken, though. There was a time for being groped and fondled and fucked, and there was a time for cooking, and they weren't the same time. He'd allowed it at breakfast, but breakfast was different; and lunch could hardly be called _cooking_. Dinner was a sacred rite, and Cas could just fuckin' deal.

The sizzling smell of beef filled the air around Dean's back door. Cas had thrown another temper tantrum when Dean had insisted on pants being worn outside of the house. At first he'd tried claiming that it didn't matter in the privacy of Dean's own yard, but Dean had reminded him that the neighbours had kids. Then he'd tried suggesting they cook the burgers on the stovetop inside, where pants could remain optional. Dean had been horrified at the mere thought, and explained in great detail why proper grilling was crucial to burger preparation, and if Cas wanted half-assed burgers he could go to a friggin' fast food joint.

Dean's passionate rant (and Cas's apparent greed for red meat) won out, and Cas was sent off to fetch something from Dean's clothes that wouldn't get them arrested. He'd returned with a pair of swim trunks and a _skirt_. Dean didn't even know how it got in his closet. When Cas held the damn thing out to him, they had a brief discussion on not buying into bullshit stereotypes based on sexual preference, and Cas was sent back upstairs with his tail between his legs. He returned minutes later with Dean's favourite pair of jeans, and burgers were shortly underway.

He hummed a little Zeppelin to himself, watching the burgers sizzle and smiling absently. Cas came up behind him and wrapped an arm around his waist, kissing his cheek. "It smells wonderful, Dean. Will they be done soon?"

"Yep, just a few more minutes." Dean smiled and rested his head on Cas's. "You calmed the hell down all of a sudden, I thought you were gonna crawl out of your own skin inside."

"I suppose I was a bit agitated," Cas admitted grudgingly. "I can hardly be blamed, though, with so much appetizing skin dangled in front of me, taunting me."

Dean snorted. "So you're saying I'm only enticing when I'm naked, huh? I see how it is."

"Not at all," Cas murmured, lipping at Dean's bare shoulder. "But now I'm allowed to touch." He sighed. "That's not really it, though."

"No?" Dean flipped the burgers one last time, then turned around, wrapping Cas in his arms. "What's up, then?"

Cas shrugged. "I've no idea. It was like…like a levee breaking, and all the pent-up pressure just flowed away into the lowlands leaving the whole land tranquil. I just feel…" he paused, searching for the right word… "calm. I feel _settled_, like—like everything's _exactly_ what it's supposed to be, for the first time since—ever." He shrugged again. "I expect that sounds foolish and rather ridiculous. I'm sure the feeling will pass."

Dean was sure he ought to say something, but he just couldn't think of anything that wasn't either unbelievably stupid or embarrassingly needy. He settled for kissing Cas as sweetly as he could, long and slow and deep, before pulling away to take the burgers off the grill.

...

Dean insisted on eating outside, using the beautiful weather as an excuse. Really, he just wanted to be able to eat—he wasn't sure he could contain himself if they went inside, given that Cas was sure to demand they get naked again. He wanted Cas to focus on his meal, too, though. He hadn't been kidding; burgers were his specialty.

It was worth it, but… The look on Cas's face as he wrapped his lips around the burger to take his first bite was _sinful_. And the _noises_ he was making, oh god, the _noises_. His frickin' _eyes rolled back in his head_ as he chewed, for chrissake!

Cas sighed and muttered around a mouthful, his eyes half-closed, "These make me _very_ happy."

It took every ounce of Dean's self-control to wait until they finished eating before dragging him back up to the bedroom.

...

He set his alarm an hour earlier than they needed to be up, so they had plenty of time to fool around before they had to leave for work.

...

_Becky must have some kind of psychic power. She _has_ to. I mean, yeah, we came in to work together, but still, how in the hell could she _know_ just by looking at us!?_ The _squeal_ she let out nearly ruptured Dean's eardrums. _Why does she care so much if we're together, anyway?_ Dean wondered as she gushed.

_And what in the _hell_ is an OTP?_

...

Piloting three back-to-back flights is considerably more challenging when every muscle in your body is _almost_ as sore as your ass, but Dean did ask for it.

(Really, it was only so challenging because he had to spend the whole day hiding his very obvious arousal from his co-pilot, who knew exactly what was going on and wasn't very happy about it.)

...

Dean wasn't sure how to broach the subject of a 'second date.' They hadn't discussed it in the morning, and they'd had no time to talk during the day. It was a relief when Cas simply took his hand as they left the terminal, and suggested they spend the night at his place this time, since he'd already seen Dean's home.

He resolved to continue aggressively avoiding thinking about his feelings. It was workin' out pretty well for him so far.

...

A/N: Yes, as my not-so-subtle reference indicated, the song Dean's humming is When The Levee Breaks, which also happens to be one of my very favourite of their songs. I couldn't think of any way to insert the lyrics without it being super-awkward and forced so go re-read that passage and hum the song to yourself as you read so you can hear it the way it happened in my head, okay? Okay cool.


End file.
